"I had only been walking up and
down there by the elevators about twenty minutes."
She made no reply. At the door she said to the carriage-caller:
"A cab, please--no, a hansom."
The hansom drove up; its doors opened. Craig pushed aside the
carriage man, lifted her in with a powerful upward swing of his
arm against her elbow and side--so powerful that she fell into
the seat, knocking her hat awry and loosening her veil from the
brim so that it hung down distressfully across her eyes and nose.
"Drive up Fifth Avenue to the Park," said Craig, seating himself
beside her. "Now, please don't cry," he said to her.
"Cry?" she exclaimed. Her dry, burning eyes blazed at him.
"Your eyes were so bright," laughed he, "that I thought they were
full of tears."
"If you are a gentleman you will leave this hansom at once."
"Don't talk nonsense," said he. "You know perfectly well I'll not
leave. You know perfectly well I'll say what I've got to say to
you, and that no power on earth can prevent me. That's why you
didn't give way to your impulse to make a scene when I followed
you into this trap."
She was busy with her hat and veil.
"Can I help you?" said he with a great show of politeness that was
ridiculously out of harmony with him in every way.
Pages:
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256